Golden Memories: Yes, You Can Go Home Again

I believe in second chances. I believe in redemption and I believe that God often allows opportunity to knock more than once.

Redemption, in the form of a second chance, was the emotion I felt this past summer. That's when a classmate of mine from undergrad, Paul Berrettini, told me he was on the Board of Directors for the South Bend Center for the Homeless. Would I, Pauly asked via e-mail, be interested in speaking at the Center's annual fundraiser - the "Holiday Miracle Luncheon" - on December 1st?

Would I?! Is the University of Notre Dame in South Bend, Indiana? Is it cold there in December? Yes and heck yes!

Actually the latter point made the prospect of visiting the Midwest a bit daunting but I still accepted the invitation without hesitation. You see, although there was no Irish football game attached to this junket, and the weather was sure to be bone-chilling, for me it offered a second chance.

In my collegiate years, my family in San Diego had some challenges. There were disagreements; there were strained relationships; there were financial hardships. I went to Notre Dame in the summer of 1992 knowing that my family just could not be the frequent visitors to campus like other families who were wealthier or lived a short drive away. There were just challenges, one of them being that my brother's wedding fell on the same date as my graduation.

Now, I felt a strong sense of gratification, as did Mama, when she and my nephew attended my graduation from the University of San Francisco Master's in Sport Management program in May 2008. My sister attended my undergraduate graduation and mom and Cory were there for my post-graduate one. (I'm interested in a doctorate, perhaps in something like literature or writing, but that would be in the future.)

But still I've felt an emptiness and a lack of fulfillment. As much as I love USF, Notre Dame is a place I care about deeply and my fervor for it is very much part of my personality. It remains one of my life's passions. Mama gets that and supports it - she has said "Go Irish!" on more than one occasion - but I've never felt she fully understands it. Because she's never been there.

This invitation from Paul, which came with the blessing of another classmate, Steve Camilleri, who now runs the Center, was a chance to accomplish many things at once: give me a speaking engagement and book sale outside of San Diego; bring along a caretaker whom I greatly trusted and needed; and show that caretaker a city and campus that is as much a part of me as dark hair and corny jokes.

In some ways, I was almost retracing my freshman year experience. Like I did right after my immigration-rights court case in '92, we flew to Chicago, trudged through cavernous O'Hare Airport, endured a nerve-wracking "puddle jumper" flight to South Bend, and landed as darkness was descending. Greeting us at the terminal, as he did for me nearly 20 years earlier, was the man who'd become my mentor and father figure, Bob Mundy.

We grabbed a bite at a sports bar called Between the Buns, which has a questionable name but great taste in decór - all vintage Fighting Irish athletics memorabilia. It really did feel like being a wide-eyed new student because this was a new restaurant for me. There was definitely a sense of reunion, though, because Mama marveled that Bob and I couldn't stop chatting and catching up.

Nostalgia did not immediately flood me because our hotel next door, though across the street from my old watering hole, the Linebacker Lounge, was a newly renovated inn called the Ivy Court. Everything in that vicinity was new, from the restaurants to gift shops, to oh, the street itself. Mama was amused that I said, "Wow. Notre Dame is all grown up and fancy now."

Actually, our primary concern in checking in to the Ivy was the room they assigned mistakenly had only one bed and had not been cleaned. The TV was on and the bed was unmade. I felt like Goldilocks discovering an invaded abode. Once again, Bob salvaged this situation, getting us a two-room suite with the requested two beds. What I loved too was it had all the modern amenities but everything from the paint to the furniture to the pictures of campus adorning the walls had a 1970s or '80's feel. It was modern yet old-school.

And that's what Notre Dame is. Old-school. Timeless.

We were reminded of that the next morning, when Paul picked us up on a cold, cloudless day for the luncheon. It was one of many intersections of past meets present. Here's Mama and I riding and checking out an old, brick-lined city, with my old friends Derrick Mayes and Pauly B. - both of whom are dads and we're in a minivan Paul has just picked up off the lot that day because he and wife Katie have a five-month old to go along with two other kids.

I'm not at that stage in my life yet. Where I am is very blessed that I can stride into the Century Center, a massive banquet facility in downtown South Bend, and get excited as I am whisked away to put on a lapel microphone. We meet the staff of the Center for the Homeless, plus my co-panelist, two-time cancer survivor Paqui Kelly, and Mama's mouth literally flies open. "I just heard how many people will be here today," she says after laying out copies of my book on a table in the foyer, "700 people! Are you kidding me?!"

I laugh. I am genuinely excited. Mom, who has certainly seen me speak before, is earnestly impressed. That makes me feel good.

The luncheon is a combination reunion with old ND friends and staff; networking with ND's former president Father Monk Malloy and current prez Fr. John Jenkins; bonding session with the very impressive Paqui (whose husband Brian is the Irish head football coach); and of course a presentation in a talk-show format that was part philosophizing, comedy, story-telling, and poignant thoughts.

I was nervous certainly but it was a nervous energy - meaning, I was making sure to enjoy it. Here I was, in the city of my alma mater, in front of 700 people who were stilled at the right moment and roaring with laughter on all the hoped-for cues, in front of Bob and his beautiful daughter Clare, and Jen Laiber, and Joe Russo, and people from the Kelly Cares charitable foundation, and Frs. Malloy and Jenkins, and my buds Pauly/Cammi/D-Mayes, and of course my amazed Mom...and I loved it. I absolutely loved it and, as Phil Jackson often advises Kobe and the Lakers, allowed myself to live in the moment. It was a day and moment of realization I'll regard as one of my life's best.

The next couple days were a whirlwind of vacation and entertainment and again of my past intersecting with my future. My pal Karen Madden had strongly suggested I take a pad of receipts for future book orders, lest we sell out, and K-Mad was right.  We absolutely did. We sold books. We exchanged stories with Paqui, who is awesome, and met Coach Kelly's (actually she coaches, too, volleyball) parents. We toured the Center with my new friend, the delightful staffer Taya Groover. We went to a ridiculously filling restaurant in Buchanon, Michigan, "Wheatberry's" with the Mundys. We went to Rocco's Pizza, a South Bend legendary joint since 1951, with my close friend Brian Uetz, his wife, Reneé, and their kids Lily and Owen. I went to an Irish bar called Fiddler's Hearth, with real live fiddlers and amber beer, with Clare, who is like ND's expanded campus - all grown up and sophisticated and just beautiful now.

Two very special occurrences for me were on Friday, the day after my speaking engagement. In our hotel room, we called Atlanta, current home of my birth mother and birth sister, Elizabeth. Both are ailing but seemed enlivened by our tales of our current visit. Maybe someday my mother can see campus, which will be interesting because she's sick and Mama - her sister - I've come to realize is physically breaking down too. My past intersecting with my present. But to have them talking by cell phone, and for me to simultaneously thank both of them for their sacrifices, was pretty incredible.

The other was simply when Mama and I finally got to tour campus. Bob, through his contacts in the MBA Admissions Office, hooked us up with a covered, triple-decker golf cart, and a tour guide who was unabashedly in love with Notre Dame. And God hooked us up with a third straight day (including our Wednesday evening arrival) of blue skies, gleaming sunshine, and a chilly but dry 40 to 45 degrees that was completely devoid of snow. Apparently it had snowed a mere 20 minutes away in Elkhart. But not in South Bend or its Golden Domed campus. I'll take that as a generous divine gift.

We scooted all around campus. I showed Mama my dorm, the Dome, the Grotto, the Basilica, the Touchdown Jesus mural, the Stadium, fat squirrels, and old friends who worked there like Gil, Iris, and Ramzi. We spent money at the Bookstore, of course. Dave, our charismatic tour guide/photographer, had Googled me (!) and was curious about my book so I bought him one. He was stoked.

Finally, finally my mom saw where I went to school. Some parts were unchanged. Timeless. Others certainly had continued the university's gargantuan rise in size and scope. But it was like a dream sequence, this whole crisp afternoon, at once surreal yet familiar as if I had been there all year.

I hadn't been to Notre Dame since 2008, when Jim Ponder and Rudy Lopez came with me for my very first book signing and the SDSU-ND football game. I'm glad they've been there. And Ann and another mentor, Bill Kuni, and now Mama.

Today as our flight left, she looked out the window and could see what we couldn't see on our descent in, three days prior: campus and the Golden Dome. "It's beautiful," she remarked, "I'm glad I got to see it."

Me too. It'll rank right up there with visiting Colombia in 2002.

It's nice to go home again.

Irish Football: We're On The Edge, The Edge, Of Glory

August 25, 2011

AND WE’RE BACK:

I have returned from the wilderness, where I was alone with the bare necessities: my thoughts, water, and a Blackberry Bold 9930. The Irish have consumed my thoughts and I have meditated daily on their upcoming campaign, a weekly battle of good vs. evil.

When we last left our Irish, they were in frigid El Paso, Texas, routing the University of Miami in the Sun Bowl. Little did we know the Hurricanes were swirling – see what I did there, Larimer? – toward a summer of immense controversy. More importantly, little did we know that Notre Dame would have a less controversial, but still eventful, offseason. Check out my remarks from the Sun Bowl Post-Game Reflections in early January:

“My thoughts on beating down The U; how it was not a one-day occurrence but a culmination of a month of improvement; and what it all means for next season and beyond:

-       I will be stunned if Floyd returns. If he does go pro, good on him. He has been an impact player since his frosh season and only injuries have slowed him. DB’s definitely haven’t and he absolutely schooled Miami’s trash-talking corners….Credit Weis and Clausen for recruiting him, Kelly for motivating him to elevate his game, and Floyd for working hard to be the next Vincent Jackson (minus the off-the-field headaches). If he does return to South Bend next fall…pssssht….kid will be unstoppable.

-       Dayne Crist is a great guy and deserves a fair shot in spring competition. But the de facto starter, the guy who’s job it is unless dethroned by a challenger, is Rees. He hangs tough, exhibits patience, makes great reads, and showed leadership in consoling Ruffer after the PK’s first miss of the season. “

Shows how much I know.

As you know by now, especially if you’re a member of our <inserts shameless plug here> IRISH FANS UNITED Group Page on Facebook, Floyd did indeed stay, then got in major trouble that temporarily got him removed from team activities, then was reinstated. Crist was not the afterthought I figured he’d become and in fact was confirmed as starting quarterback this week.

So with those two likely being the largest personnel moves in Brian Kelly’s offseason (as if head coaches really have an offseason), where will this place our beloved program this season?  By the way, I’m glad there is a season, Lord willing. That whole Judgment Day thing would’ve made USC-Notre Dame really hard to schedule.

But I digress.

Clearly this is the highest level of optimism Under the Dome in many years, due to last year’s 4-0 finish and a roster with more depth than The Help.  I’ve heard from more than one of you that 12-0 or 10-2 at worst is your expectation.

Boy do I hope you’re right but, truthfully, I respectfully disagree.

I do wonder if the pro-style Dayne is cut out for this spread option offense and also, if he can get past Halloween without an injury. Having said that, I think Kelly likes #10’s arm, size, and agility and also figures the running game and defense will carry this team. The guy at the throttle then, really, just needs to manage the game and not make mistakes. That’s a departure from Kelly’s past but does make sense for this seemingly physical Irish team.

My concerns are: Do the Irish have depth behind Floyd?  Can Cierre and Jonas finally be a strong 1-2 in the backfield?  Will losing Darrin Walls hurt the secondary?  Will we ever have a decent kick return game again?

Granted, those aren’t a lot of question marks and certainly the talent is there to turn those into affirmative answers. But I need to see that Dayne is a reliable starter and that the vaunted defense can withstand the number of strong passers on opposing squads.

USF is no pushover and two gauntlets scare me: UM-MSU-PITT-PUR and Maryland-BC-Stanford.   We also face ‘SC with Matt Barkley at the helm and need to prove we can – again – sink Navy.

The key then is attitude. These Irish have gotten more positive press than Derek Jeter. Will they be as hungry and excited as Clare Mundy at a Ke$ha concert?

If so, look out because the roster looks deep, physical, and fast. If we can stuff the run like late last fall, everything will flow from that – turnovers, offensive opportunities, points.

My meditations tell me the schedule isn’t as easy as many have claimed. So on the admittedly conservative side, I say:

PACO PREDICTS: 9-3 and a BCS Bowl.

Tell me if you disagree. Just don’t be a douche about it.

IT’S TIME FOR NOTRE DAME FOOTBALL!!!!!!!!!!